


breathe with me

by currahees



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/currahees/pseuds/currahees
Summary: “won’t you lay your healing hands on my chest.”ORthe one in which joe has a panic attack.





	breathe with me

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: mention of a panic attack.

The deep breaths, even though he felt like he was drowning.

The room that was spinning, even though he knew he was safe.

The person next to him, unwavering and unmoving as he talked him through it.

Finally, the silence.

Joe Toye was no stranger to panic attacks. They weren’t infrequent but it was rare they ever got that bad. His eyes travelled across the room to land on George Luz. It was always George Luz. _What the hell would he do without George Luz?_

He knew he wouldn’t be able to speak, at least not without his voice breaking or stuttering. Looking over at Luz, he felt exposed and raw. George waits a few moments before reaching out for him. First he takes his hands in his. He runs a finger across his knuckles, the scars from a past life rising under his skin. Then George interlinks their fingers, letting his thumb move across the back of Joe’s hand. He moves so he’s closer. He’s sat cross legged with his legs pressed up against Joe’s own. His hands move from Joe’s and travel down his arms, across his shoulders to cup his face.

“Hey,” he whispers, barely audible. His eyes find Joe’s and manages to pull him back to them, their bed, their room.

“Hey,” Joe whispers back, blinking a few times.

George slowly moves forward, making sure Joe doesn’t move away. He doesn’t. Lowering himself on his lap, he rests his forehead against his. The two of them breathe together, their hands finding each others again. Joe can smell the washing liquid they bought last week on George's shirt, he must have just grabbed it from the washing machine. After staring at it for a few minutes he realises it's actually one of his old gym shirts, he recognises the colour and the pattern. George was always stealing his clothes. He can feel his soft hair tickling his forehead and his nose is slightly touching his. Their hands are intertwined and resting in George's lap. Compared to his own hands, George's are soft and warm whereas his are cold and calloused.

Joe slowly, very slowly, pulls his head back a little. George lifts an eyebrow in a wordless expression of confusion, but doesn't move. His eyes travel across the man sat in his lap. The always fluffy and unruled mess of hair on his head that he loved to comb his fingers through when George was sleepy. The way his eyes crinkled with the slight smirk on his face, a joke on the edge of his tongue about to come tumbling out of his lips.

"You wanna take a picture? It'll last longer?" He quips, earning a small smile off of Joe.

"You'll only break my camera," Joe mumbles, not missing the way George's lips turned up at the corners as he let out a laugh. Joe leans forward and rests his head on George's chest, hearing his laughter echo through his body.

He was okay. He was safe. He was _home_.

**Author's Note:**

> Not a representation of the real men, this work is based off the portrayals in the HBO mini series. No disrespect intended towards the real war veterans.  
> Not edited.


End file.
